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Still House Plants - "If I don​’​t make it, I love u" | Album Review

by Devin Birse (@devvvvi.b)

As eclectic and esoteric as their work might seem from an initial glance the best way to describe the mesh of shard-like guitars, rumbling drums, and gripping vocals that make up Still House Plants is direct. The band's minimalist setup hides nothing from the listener. This isn’t an album where the studio is an instrument itself or there's an extensive list of guest players. Rather If I Don’t Make It, I Love U is an album as blunt and heartfelt as its title. A piece of intense musical chemistry captured on tape.

The experience of listening to If I Don’t Make It, I Love U reminds me of Kurt Cobain's liner notes for The Raincoats in ’93. Rather than listening to them, you're listening in on them. Like The Raincoats, If I Don’t Make It is a record that embodies the people who made it, their dynamics, their relationships with their craft, and how that’s reflected in their music. In an interview with The Quietus, guitarist Finlay Clark describes his approach as “allowing things to be as they're supposed to be.” This sense of intuition, of allowing the music to in part guide itself to the right conclusion lends them that same tranquil warmth as The Raincoats.

Yet sonically this is an album a world away from the ramshackle post-punk of Raincoats. Instead, Still House Plants presents a style of experimental rock that lands somewhere between the mathiness of first-wave post-rock acts like Slint and Don Caballero and the distorted free-form angularity of no-wave guitar experimentalists like Arto Lindsay or Glenn Branca. Yet as Jess Hickie-Kallenbach’s vocals appear they lend a melody to the distortion. Her vocals are at points neo-soul esque on the album's more languid tracks like wavery “Pant” or the melancholic “Sticky,” but it’s on the album's heavier tracks that she truly dazzles. On album opener “M M M” they are overwhelming, appearing as a spiritual release when they lock into Clark’s glimmering guitar and drummer David Kennedy’s hypnotic rhythms. It’s moments like “M M M” where Still House Plants shine the brightest, transforming into a glorious sound that resembles totalism by way of deep soul.

Still, the directness of this sound allows Still House Plants to remain such a venturous trio. The simplicity of the band's setup recalls the minimalist noise rock of Shellac or the rolling post-rock grooves of Moin. In the immediacy of the band's design, an incredible range is found. This range plays upon their clear communication and musical chemistry to allow the tracks to move as freely as water. On mid-album highlight “Silver Grit Passes Thru My Teeth” a calming groove is interrupted by a sudden blast of distortion from Clark that rattles across the track before he and Kennedy lock into a groove around Kallenbach’s vocals as she echoes out the track title, her voice moving from soft and graceful to blistering and powerful with ease.

This chemistry causes the songs of If I Don’t Make It, I Love U to sound adrift somewhere between the free improv rocking of Storm & Stress and the airy R&B of Tirzah. As if, like The Raincoats, we're peering into the band playing, observing them as they push their sound back and forth, hearing them bounce from the chilled grooves of “Pushed” to rousing indie on the excellent closer “More More Faster”. The unique combination of styles comes together into a genuinely joyous concoction of experimental oddities transformed into something almost poppy.

All of this is grounded in a direct emotive honesty. Kallenbach's lyrics never appeal confessional but rather earnest. The simple chorus of “M M M,” “I just want to be seen right/I just want to get my friends in” hits a balance between the conversational and personal that offers the listener an intimacy within the overwhelming power of her voice. As if her words are paint that her voice applies to Clark and Kennedy's sonic canvas, the result is a shimmering glorious painting. One that's not without its odd angles and obtuse images but those elements never distract from the final product. It’s a big beautiful heartfelt thing. One that the band has made for themselves over anyone else. It’s not something everyone will see the beauty in but those who do will find a sense of odd intimate harmony. Like you’re Cobain gazing at The Raincoats from another room, observing their sounds but never being seen, because to impede on this chemistry would simply ruin its beauty.